


Swap Day, Every Day

by PaleNoFace



Series: Tree Bros Adventures [3]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Agender Character, Alternate Universe - Character Swap, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Connor Deserves Happiness, Dissociation, EVERYONE. IS. GAY., Everyone Is Gay, F/F, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, I Just Really Love Tree Bros, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I repeat, Jared is a good friend, Larry Murphy Tries (Dear Evan Hansen), M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mild Angst, Minor Original Character(s), Other, Protective Siblings, Protective Zoe Murphy, Slow To Update, They'll Get Better Eventually, They're Not Okay But They're Trying, This Fandom Had Enough Angst, Tree Bros, alana and zoe just forgot to make it official, connor and evan are both disaster gays, evan is maybe a bit more functional, go to drunk pale you're sleep, his s/o is traumatized he's trying his best okay, inspired by the pastel!connor au, jared is an idiot in love, like the rest of the squad is already dating each other, tree bros are late to date, what the fuck am i saying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-28 10:02:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13901691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaleNoFace/pseuds/PaleNoFace
Summary: Evan Hansen is the freaky guy from senior year who bangs lockers in the gym changing room, beats up anyone who laugh at his stuttering and seems angry with the world on a daily basis. And Connor Murphy, quiet and passive student whose sister is the reconized bodygard, has a massive unrequired crush on him, because his depressed ass is irrecoverable.OREvan has anger issues, Connor is depressed and they decide to be losers together.





	1. Angry Teen, Sad Teen

#  [](https://ibb.co/jtHSgc)

# 

Evan was not okay.

 

In another time, in another universe, confronted to a fight of flight reaction, Evan would have lowered his head, muttered an apology and hidden as soon as it was socially acceptable in order to protect himself. In another universe, he would probably have been an anxious mess, struggling to keep his head out of the water, to the point where he would simply give up. Where he would simply let go. But Evan wasn't like that : too soon in his life, the world teached him to stand in order to survive - against the eyes of others, first, and bullies later. He learned to battle against wicked comments and nasty looks, fighting whoever made the mistake to laugh at him.

 

There were so many things important to Evan, so many points of view he wanted to defend, so many small details about who he was - _what he was_ \- he couldn't just let down, at the risk of disappointing himself. Yes, he had social anxiety, but he was working on it, thought. Yes, he was known for stuttering when under pressure, but he was doing better every day. Yes, he was gay, but it was nobody's business but his own. And yes, he was kind of scary and violent, but it was all he had to protect himself from a world that was everything but kind to him.

 

Except that his attitude, besides from putting him in trouble, was slowly but surely segregating him from the rest of the humanity. He was too violent, too angry, too much for people to handle his presence. His mom, bless her, was probably the only person able to stand up and call him out when he was going too far. She never complained, never gave up, even if he was sure it was only because, as a mother, it was expected from her by the society - despite the feeling, Evan still loved her with all he had.

 

For short, Evan was alone.

 

_______________________________________________________________________________

 

Connor was not happy.

 

In another time, another universe, confronted to silence and indifference, Connor would have been loud, trying to finally make himself heard. In another universe, he would probably have been desperate, trying to fill the void growing every day around him and wrapping him, trapping him inside like a dark cocoon. In another universe, he would have tried to break through, to find an escape route, anything. But Connor wasn't like that : it was just easier to stay silent, bottle everything up instead of throwing things or hurting himself. It was easier to be the quiet type in the corner, waiting for the end of the day and entering the next one. Connor was used to those small, passive victories.

 

Connor just wanted to hide and go unnoticed, because it was at the same time his biggest hope and his worst fear : people realizing that he was here. Alive. Breathing and influencing the world in a certain way. Causing small huricanes with the tiny wings of his existence. He needed it so badly, he knew it, but at the same time he couldn't resolve to ask for attention. Because he was already taking so much space, so much time, and creating so much disappointment. He tried, every single day, to pull through seamlessly, and every single day he failed a little bit more because he was meeting new people, entering strangers' lives without knowing it. To him, it often felt like too much responsability.

 

Except that his attitude didn't do him any good : solitude and paranoïa forced him into avoiding any human being that wasn't his closest friends or family - Zoe, for exemple, was the kind of people he could dare to stand around, because he knew she was tough. Yet, he knew people couldn't bother to talk about him as much as he thought, he knew he wasn't that interesting, but he couldn't help but be fooled by himself.

 

In a nutshell, Connor was depressed.


	2. Cracking Nerves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters from now should be more or less this long. Probably less, tho.

First day of a new school year : Connor didn't know if to be relieved or terrified. Summer had been stiffling, but being back in town - back to school... It would be one more year, one last year to get through before college, but he wasn't sure to have the required strengh for it. He hummed to himself "college will be paradise if I'm not dead by june" - because honestly ? mood - as he dressed, while distantly hearing Zoe screaming from the kitchen that if he was not ready in the next five minutes she would leave without him. He sighed, grabbing his messenger bag and almost jumping down the stairs. When he entered the kitchen, everything was like it had always been, weird reproduction of an immuable painting : his mom cooking, his father reading the news and Zoe inhaling her food at full speed. He took a seat silently, dropping his head on the table with a soft, defeated grunt. His head was hurting, his guts were twisting in an unpleasant way and he was feeling sick just thinking about leaving the house. He was stressing over coming back to school, and the very first period hadn't even started yet. Even on his own regards, it was pathetic. Cynthia placed a plate of buttered bread in front of him, pressing his shoulder with motherly worry :

 

"Are you okay, honey ?"

 

He rolled his head on the other side to see her : she was magnificent in the morning light, wearing her overly-concerned look like a second skin. For a short second, he considered telling her about the invasive thoughts that were plaguing him since he first woke up, but the moment he opened his mouth Larry's voice raised from behind his journal.

 

"Stand straight, Connor, you look like you're about to collapse."

 

Connor didn't bother to answer, instead he sat correctly and teared down his breakfast in two minutes, shaking his head when his mother proposed him some coffee : he already felt like throwing up, no need to add more liquids than necessary to the equation. Larry finally looked at him for the first time of the day, only to shoot him a critical glare.

 

"What is up with you today ?" he wondered, but his voice didn't show any sign of actual heat nor concern : neutral and distant as ever.

 

Connor shook his head, unable to speak. Once again, Cynthia was all over him, her hand uncomfortably heavy on his shoulder. He looked at her and she looked back, and suddently he realized that she - _that the whole family_ \- knew what it was about. She sighed.

 

"It's your senior year, Connor. You are not missing the first day."

 

Connor dropped his head, chewing on his lip. He knew he had to, but he couldn't bring himself to like first day of anything. He just couldn't help it, he didn't like changes. His lack of verbal answer got interpreted as a refusal and Larry looked up from his paper again.

 

"You have to go to school, Connor."  
"That's all you're going to say ?" Cynthia huffed in annoyance, reporting her attention on her husband who rolled his eyes.  
"What do you want me to say ? He doesn't listen. Look at him," he added, waving in his son's general direction. "He's not listening. He's probably stressing already."

 

Zoe looked up from her cereals, giving her brother a understanding half-smile.

 

"He's definitely stressing."  
"Fuck you," Connor muttered, but he knew that she wasn't being mischievous.

 

His answer came out more as an automatic response than as a real insult, at which Zoe only grinned and responded on the same tone. Because that was Zoe's job, as his sister : pushing him out of his comfort zone and calling him out every time he was shying away, because she just couldn't stand seeing him shrinking under the weight of sadness a bit more every day. Not that their parents knew about it.

 

"I don't need you picking at your brother right now," Cynthia, indeed, said at her daughter, whose smile faded immediately. "That is not constructive. Besides, he is not stressing."

 

She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to confirm. Connor didn't. She sighed again.

 

"Do your breathe exercices, for God's sake. I do not want you to go to school anxious, Connor, we talked about this."  
"Perfect, so then I won't go. Thanks, Mom."

 

It came out a lot more sarcastic than intended and he regretted his words immediately. Zoe lifted her eyes to the heavens, probably trying to draw some strengh from whatever overlord she believed in. Cynthia was clearly disappointed but decided to clean some dishes in a stubborn silence, while Larry was already back to his own occupation. Connor swallowed around the lump in his throat and stoop up to leave. Zoe was behind him in a matter of seconds, and they left the house together to school, checking each other to spot any twisted shirt collar, flyaway locks or - for Connor - any suspect sign of dampness.

 

The ride was short and quiet, the only sound being Zoe singing along one of her jazz records. Connor was still stubbornly mute when they entered the hallway, where Alana appeared out of nowhere with a blinding smile, embracing both of them in a quick, bone-crushing hug. She then planted a chaste kiss in Zoe's cheek, who turned into a nice shade of pink, and finally asked the killer question :

 

"Hey ! How was your summer ?"

 

As Connor shrugged, her attention reported quickly on the younger Murphy. The girls entertaining themselves with descriptions of their respective vacations, his spirit started to wander, walking down the hallway, running across the playground, flying away from this place. He was about to give in when he saw Jared. His friend was jostling to join him next to their respective lockers, and when he finally reached him he looked at him up and down, smirking.

 

"How is the sun up there, tall ass ?"

 

Connor rolled his eyes.

 

"Don't call me that."  
"Hey, not my fault you're like ninety percent of legs and ten percent of hair," Jared grinned, opening his bag to seach for something and stopping, noticing the spint around Connor's ankle with wide eyes. "Holy shit, what happened ?"

 

Connor shrugged, hiding his injured leg behind the other.

 

"I fell," as Jared blinked, he felt forced to develop. "During summer. I fell from a cliff."

 

Jared choked on his saliva, half-coughing half-laughing, but Connor continued, imperturbable.

 

"I was climbing it and the rock just. Gave way."  
"And you fell ?"  
"It was a twenty meters tall wall, Jared. It's a miracle I only sprained my ankle." _A miracle, more like another deception._  
"What the fuck where you doing on a twenty meters tall wall ? What are you, a mountain goat ?" he wheezed.

 

Connor didn't respond. He let Jared laugh his head off, and when eventually his giggles completely faded, he asked :

 

"How was your summer ?"

 

Jared straightened, his hands smothering an invisible fold on his shirt.

 

"Well, my bunk dominated in capture the flag and I got to see Cass, who was back from Seattle by the way, after five months, final-fucking-ly... So yeah, hopefully that answers your question."

 

As they both opened their lockers to unburden themselves from any useless book, Evan Hansen walked by, directed to his own spot. Connor felt like his eyes were turning into magnets because he couldn't look away from him. His sand hair cut shorter that the year before, purple bags under his eyes betraying a lack of sleep, Evan looked like he was coming straight out of a winter collection magazine, wearing way much more layers than bearable in the warmth of early september : a sweatshirt's hood was exceeding from his thick dark coat's collar, and a dense turtle neck was hiding any stripe of skin that wasn't his face. Connor's heart skipped a beat and he carefully hid behind his locker door. But it wasn't discreetly enough not to catch Jared's attention, who looked at him interrogatively and then followed his look over his own shoulder. At the smile slowly growing on his friend's face, Connor knew they were screwed. As if to prove him right, Jared took a deep inspiration and hummed, loud enough to be heard by half of the school :

 

"She's in a long black coat tonight..."

 

Connor, his head still in his stuffed unit, couldn't help but snigger at that, because _fuck yeah,_ Jared had good references. On the opposite, Evan stopped, casting at them a wistering glance, stopping Jared right away. The small guy pushed nervously his glasses on his nose as he clarified :

 

"I was kidding. It was a joke."  
"Y-Yeah, no it was funny," Evan deadpanned. "I'm laughing, can't you tell ? A-Am I not laughing hard enough for you ?"

 

Jared laughed nervously and Connor's hair dressed on his neck. The animosity in the air was giving him shivers down the spine and he hated it. Jared finally prefered to retreat to his classroom, muttering a "You're such a freak" on his way, and quickly disappeared down the hall. Connor was now alone with Evan, the corridor having emptied during the short showdown. He retrieved a book that was supposed to be used for his first period and locked everything, making a show of not being pressed by the time and ignoring the best he could the gloomy presence next to him. His eyes fell on a paper caught in-between two pages of his top notebook. He grabbed it, curious, and had an uncomfortable laugh when he noticed it was a motivational post his mom likely printed and put in his things when he wasn't looking. A loud bang made his jump and he wiped his head toward Evan, whose fist just met the cold metal of the furniture.

 

"What the fuck you l-laughing at ?" he barked, eyes glittering with fury.

 

Connor gulped, taken aback.

 

"What ?"  
"S-Stop fucking laughing at me."  
"I'm... not."

 

And, in fact, he wasn't. He was laughing at how weird it was that his mom actually took the time to choose and print some ridiculously positive motivational meme. Not that he would tell Evan that anyway. Not that he could tell him. Meanwhile, the other boy was building up some serious tension and looked ready to explode at any moment.

 

"You think I'm a f-freak ?"  
"No. I don't-" Connor started, but he got quickly interrupted.  
"I'm not the freak !" Evan roared.

 

Connor shut his mouth, his survival skills kicking in to save him - too late.

 

"You're the f-fucking freak !"

 

And with that, Connor got shoved to the ground, yelping in surprise. When he watched up with a wince, Evan was already stomping away in the opposite direction. He laid on the floor for a moment, unable to process what just happened. He looked down at his hands and, yep, there were shaking. So much for staying impassive. _Well, that was terrifying._ Zoe suddently teleported to his side - she had to have teleported, no one moved so fast - to give him a hand and helped him up, shooting a glare in the direction the other boy took.

 

"Hey. I saw him push you. He's a psychopath. You alright ?"  
"Uh ?" Connor said, agape, while his brain was trying to catch up.  
"Connor. You okay ?"  
"Oh. Yes. Yeah. Sorry."

 

She squinted suspiciously.

 

"Why are you sorry ?"  
"Well, because I'm. Because- Urgh, sorry, I'm not completely here today."  
"You... apologize a lot today," she noted, and she added, as her brother was still looking towards the direction Evan took : "Don't worry, I won't let him go to you again. I heard things about him, nasty things. If you only mention his name you'll have dozen of people ready to fight for you."  
"I don't... I don't want anyone to fight for me, though," Connor muttered, but too low for Zoe to catch - she was already walking away anyway.

 

Connor sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. Fortunately his bag wasn't overthrown, he didn't want to linger in the hallway anymore. Everything was better than meeting Evan's way again. The worst part was the encounter didn't lessen his crush on the boy, on the contrary : Evan scared Connor, but at the same time there was something about him that was just irresistible. After a few seconds, he finally pinpointed what it was : Evan was loud. He could make himself heard. He wasn't undergoing his existence, he was stomping through it violently, crushing anyone on his way. People stayed away not because he was weird or creepy or ridiculous or boring, but because he was the one pushing them away. Because he was actively doing it.

 

And Connor was silently, distantly admiring this demeanor.


	3. Bathroom Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan is a tryharder, okay. He means well, even if he's not good at it.

Geography, litterature and then break. Maths, physics and then lunch. Connor seized his backpack as he unwillingly made his way to the cafeteria. He hated that hour of the day more than the others : too many people, too much noise, so many things to avoid and his ability to focus approaching zero percent at this time of the day. He was pretty sure Jared said something about having lunch offbeat, too, which meant that Connor would be alone unless he found Zoe, but he knew it would be too clingy of him. He huffed, half in annoyance and half in despair, taking a deep inspiration before diving into the mass of students.

 

As expected, there was a lot of sensory stimulation. He fished in dispair his earphones from his pocket and drowned the world out, reducing the overflowing sound to a simple background noise. Sometimes he was really glad that music was here to save his skin, preventing him from having a nervous breakdown in the most inapropriate places (the cafeteria, for example). He grabbed mechanically a tray and stood in the line, waiting to be close enough to grab something edible. Anything would do, he wasn't very hungry anyway. He kept his eyes obstinately down on his hands, doing his best not to cross anyone's look. Maybe, if he was quick enough, he could make it out before the second wave of students poured in and find some place quiet and empty to stay in peace. He finally reached the top of the line and took a few random dishes. His mom would be happy if she knew he was using his cafeteria card.

 

He shakily exhaled, preparing himself for the hardest part. He looked up. Scanned the room. Spotted an empty table near the exit. Made a beeline for it, avoiding two bags in the way and a sneaky foot clearly here to make him trip. Finally reached the small heaven of solitude and dropped everything a little bit harshly, lowkey happy to have survived another trial. He started to eat, as much as his knotted stomach allowed him to. Tomato salad, green beans, fish and a yogurt. Not that bad, he thought as he engulfed everything as quickly as he could without sufficating to death, no matter how appealing the idea was. Another couple of seconds and he was out of the-

 

"Ah, fuck."

 

His neck cracked with how quickly he looked up. In front of him, as if his day wasn't hard enough already, was standing a very grumpy Evan Hansen. Connor gulped and almost fell from his chair while trying to stand. He took his stuff and crossed the room in the direction of the tray deposit, but got entangled in his shoelaces and fell on the ground. The shock knocked out all the air of his lungs and he felt like lying there forever, wishing he was anywhere else but here. His chin was aching like mad, but his ego got the worst of it. He could hear all around him people laughing so hard that it physically hurt him. He squeezed his eyes shut, gulping for air. Now really wasn't the good time for a panic attack : he had to breathe, clear his head. Eventually get off the ground and clean the mess he did. And, once it was all done, maybe hide somewhere to cry. An anxious lump formed in his throat and his eyes filled with tears. _Don't break not now, not now._

 

A surprisingly strong hand landed on his bicep and he suddently got lifted and put back on his feet. He blinked, chasing the few tears threatening to fall, and met Evan's glance. The boy was looking at him from below, and Connor distantly realized that he was a lot smaller than himself, which was weird because he really didn't look like it. A sharp tug made him almost stumble again, but Evan didn't let go of him as he dragged him to the exit.

 

"Hurry up," he hissed between his clenched teeth.

 

Connor planted his heels on the ground as soon as they were out of the room, making the both of them stop abruptly despite laugh echos still audible.

 

"Stop, wait, I gotta..." he sniffed, waving vaguely at the cafeteria's door.

 

The small boy's eyes glittered with anger and he huffed, tugging once again, but more gently.

 

"They'll t-take care of it. Come on."

 

He was so numb that he followed without any more resistance. Somehow, Evan managed to take him to the closest bathroom without meeting anyone. Connor walked to the nearest mirror to measure the damage : his purple sweatshirt was now decored by a large stain of fish sauce, his chin was bleeding, his hair tousled, his eyes red and his hands shaking. For short, he was a mess. He glanced at Evan, who was leaning on the bathroom door with his arms crossed, keeping his eyes anywhere but in Connor's general direction and -consciously or not - preventing anyone to enter or exit the small bathroom.

 

He reported his attention back to the sink, he took a great inspiration and poured some water on his face. After a few seconds, his hands finally stopped to shake so much. Still, he clasped them on the edge of the sink and shook his head, before looking again at the elephant in the room : surprisingly, the latter was now watching him - or rather his reflection, to be perfectly accurate. For the first time since maybe forever, he didn't seem angry to the point of punching anything close enough. Even when he realized that Connor was watching him through his wet bangs, his glare lacked actual fire.

 

"What are you looking at ?"  
"You."

 

Evan frowned and looked away. His fingers were tapping nervously on his arm, betraying his nervousness. Connor decided to break the tension before it could invade everything, so he sat on the ground and pushed himself against a wall, hugging his knees close and asking :

 

"Why ?"

 

Evan didn't answer immediately : if it wasn't for his eyes back on Connor, he could believe he didn't hear the question. In the end, his defensive posture dropped - just a bit, nothing really noticeable, but Connor had good eyes for body language.

 

"You ended on the ground twice today. Be-because of me. And you looked..." he trailed off and his eyes were fleeing away again.  
"Desperate ? About to cry ?" Connor laughed, and it sounded harsher than expected.

 

The smaller guy was now looking at his own shoe with intense concentration, as if it was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen. Connor shut his mouth and looked away too. There was nothing to say, really : he was pathetic, and they both knew it, even if Evan had enough human decency not to point it out. The silence grew thicker and more tense. Connor didn't dare to shift from his spot, first because Evan was still blocking the only way out, and second... there was something. Something unspoken of.

 

"I'm sorry, okay ?" Evan eventually blurted out, still glaring at his shoe. "A-about this morning. And for..." he gulped and made a vague movement with his hand. "Lunch, too."

 

The taller boy shrugged. He didn't know what to say. He didn't have the words for what was happening in his brain. A part of him was conforted in the idea that Evan was, deep down, under all the rage, still a good person, but another part, much louder, kept yelling at him about how he got hurt twice because of him, and it was only the first day of school. So yes, a shrug was probably the best answer he could give at the moment. Evan's frown deepened, but there was something under - it looked suspiciously like uncertainty to Connor.

 

"It's not against you p-particularly, I swear. You're just... always in the wrong place at the wrong time, y-you know ?"

 

Connor nodded. Yes, he knew. He wasn't really the kind of guy one would want around. He didn't say it, obviously, but the feeling was there.

 

"So, hum," Evan said again, rubbing the back of his neck as he slid against the door to sit on the ground. "W-what happened to your ankle ?"  
"I, uh. I feel out of a cliff."

 

Evan's eyes widened and an incredulous smile tugged up the left side of his mouth.

 

"You... You fell out of a c-cliff ? T-that's just the saddest fucking thing I've ever heard. Holy crap."

 

Connor felt his chest rising and falling and it took him a moment to understand that he was repressing a laugh. Evan's hallucinated face was just priceless.

 

"I know."

 

They awkwardly giggled together, and the world didn't seem such a bad place anymore, for some reason.

 

"If y-you had had a cast, I would have signed it, b-but..."

 

Connor shrugged again, picking at the velcro of his splinter.

 

"Not m-much of a talker, uh."

 

He shook his head and looked at him through the curtain of his hair. Evan was really fucking pretty, he thought, when he wasn't trying to kill people who looked at him wrong. And "worried" looked better on him than "murderous", too. Connor wondered if he had any other masks. _Here you go again with your stupid mask tale. Not everyone tries to hide behind facades like you. Creep._

 

"No, I'm not," he said, realizing too late that he answered way latter than what was socially acceptable and cringing internally.

 

For some reason Evan laughed again, but for real this time. It was an odd laugh, a strangled, low sound that seemed to rumble in his chest and throat and was doing illegal things to Connor's heart and stomach. He decided that he liked that sound.

 

"You're weird, Murphy," he said once his laugher had died a little.  
"Sorry," he mumbled, hiding behind his knees.  
"N-no, don't get me wrong, it's, uh, it's a good thing."

 

Connor glanced up at him, unconvinced. Evan looked away.

 

"How ?"  
"It makes you interesting."

 

If Connor didn't know better, he would have sworn Evan was blushing. But he didn't comment. Maybe because he felt his own cheeks heating up, too. Maybe. The bell rang, breaking whatever bubble out of time they were in, and Evan stood up like his ass suddently caught fire. He moved away from the door and was already half-way out before he looked back at Connor, still on the ground.

 

"Hey, hum. I'll try. Not to be m-mean to you. B-but no promises. You look like y-you have enough on your plate already."

 

And with that, he was gone. Connor lingered a bit longer, washing his face once again, wondering if it would wash over the pink dust on his face. Maybe the year wouldn't be that hard, after all.


	4. Compromises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan is lost in his own head and Connor feels like living again.

"Interesting". Evan wanted to slap himself. What the fuck was he thinking ? It wasn't like he even cared that much about that Murphy kid. Or he would have liked not to care so much. Evan groaned and pressed the heel of his hands on his eyes. He was so tired. He didn't want to be here, he couldn't handle to stay shut in like that. It was too oppressive. He blinked, trying to focus back on his class. Right, Medieval Litterature. He didn't remember chosing this class, but it was too late now to back off, so he could at least pretend to listen. His mom didn't raise a caveman, after all. But his brain clearly didn't want to cooperate, and so Evan's minds kept scattering everywhere except in the direction of the _Divine Comedy_. And, annoyingly enough, always back to Connor.

 

Evan quietly huffed and tapped his fingers nervously on the edge of his desk. He shouldn't have talked to him in the first place. Heck, he shouldn't have reacted to Kleinman this morning, because since this moment it all went downhill. Evan might not be a good person, but he's not wicked for fun : guilt ate him up from the inside the entire morning. And when he saw that Connor was sitting at the table he usually claimed, it somehow became worse. God, he hated himself so much sometimes. Even when he was trying to make it better he had to mess up. "Interesting" my ass. Way to go, Hansen, way to go. He huffed again and leaned back into his seat, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to empty his mind. _Get out of my head. Get out of my head get out of my head get out get out get out._

 

He suddently stood up and grabbed his stuff, making a bee line for the door and excusing himself on the way. He needed to get out, breathe some fresh air. Take a walk. And stop his hands from drumming so nervously.

 

__________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Connor was lost in his own world when Jared met him at the end of the day. Took him a few seconds to notice the grimaces his friend was making to get his attention and almost laughed when his eyes crossed comically.

 

"What ?" he giggled, trying to hide his amusement.  
"Aaah, nice, Murphy got down from the Moon. What's up, man ? Looks like you met a freakin' angel."  
"No I don't," Connor frowned a little, but his mouth was still twitching up at the corners, earning a jaded look from the smaller guy.  
"Dude. Seriously, it's the first time I see you smiling in so long."  
"It's the first day of the year and we haven't seen of all the summer. Knock it off."  
"Just saying !" Jared chirped, his hands raised in a faked innocence. "But what happened, seriously ?"

 

Connor thought of it for a few seconds, and tilted his head on the side, looking down at Jared as they made their way to their houses.

 

"You missed a heartfelt conversation in the bathroom," he told him with a light tone, looking back at where he was putting his feet.  
"God, I really don't wanna know what you do in the bathroom, Con," Jared mutters, pulling on his backpack strap.

 

Connor shrugged with a sly smile and changed the subject.

 

"How was Cassidy ?"

 

Jared's face immediately lit up and he started talking with wild hand gestures.

 

"Oh man, you have no idea ! Told you they were in Seattle, right ? Okay, so, there was a group of cool kids with them, and it was kind of the freak show, their words, not mine, 'cause nobody else liked them in that school. All knew each other since forever, and Cass is feeling kinda left alone..."

 

And so Jared trailed off until they reached his house, and with a wave and a goodbye the door closed, cutting the monologue. Connor huffed, but not in an annoyed way. It was just like he was starting to breathe better with every step. Summer was hell, alone with his thoughts, even worse after he fell from the rock. During three months, he had felt like walls were coming closer to crush him, forcing him to retreat into his head where, of course, there was his own personal flavor of hell. But now...

 

Now at least he was not forced to stay inside all day. No one expected him to stay put, waiting who knew how long for his ankle -and his mind ?- to heal. Now he was allowed, encouraged even, to get out, away from his thoughts if he wanted to. And he wasn't alone. He had Zoe, who was sworn she wouldn't let him be desperate again. He had Jared, who was still sticking despite everything. And there was Evan, who said he woul be trying. It wasn't much, but it was enough.


	5. Uncomfortable Lunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor got it bad, Jared is low-key supportive and we finally meet Cassidy.

"I'm pretty sure it's not legal," Jared gurgled, barely understandable around the mouthful of fries.

 

Connor nodded and engulfed thougtfully his steak, an eye on his watch. In front of him, Jared swallowed - with great difficulty - and carried on :

 

"If you cover me I can make a run for the teachers room, ninja-like, and take it back or something. Probably. ...Yeah, no, I'm not fast enough to dodge Mr Stilton's freaky long arms, even with you as a back-up."

 

Connor rolled his eyes with a short laugh and looked at him.

 

"I don't care, Jared."  
"Dude, how old are you not to care about your phone taken away ? It's like, an extention of our being."  
"I don't care because you're the only one who texts me anyway."  
"Loser," the shorter boy sing-sang, but it was playful. "Speaking of losers, here comes the king," he added as he looked somewhere above Connor's shoulder.

 

The latter whipped his head, his guts twisting in a weird but not unpleasant way when he saw Evan coming from the door. His heart missed a beat when the other boy suddently met his eyes and he promptly looked back at his plate, his cheeks burning. Jared sniggered and gently nudged his tray with his own.

 

"Hey, look," he smiled, suddently standing on his seat and already taking a deep inspiration before anyone - read : Connor - could stop him.  
"Nonono Jared shut up-" he gritted through his teeth, but it was too late, his friend's voice already booming in the cafeteria :  
"Well, I'm back in black ! Yeah I'm back in black !"  
"ACDC, seriously ?" Connor whimpered _sotto voce_ , shrinking on his seat, hiding his burning face behind his hair and hands.

 

Despite the distance, Evan's response didn't take long to come to their ears.

 

"Shut the f-fuck up Kleinman !"

 

Connor looked up, only for him to catch the young Hansen flipping the bird at his friend and stomping out of the cafeteria with his lunch. He pressed his eyes closed for a second, wondering who he hurt in his past life for karma to slap him like that.

 

"Every fucking time," Jared giggled and sat down, completely oblivious of his best friend's mild distress. "Yo man, you look kinda cooked down here, what's up ?"  
"Oh my god could you just shut up sometimes ?" Connor muffled shout passed the barrier of his hands and his eyes open in horror. "Oh shit. Oh shit I'm sorry. I didn't- I didn't mean to say it out loud, oh fuck..."

 

Jared stared at him for a second before bursting out laughing.

 

"Ooooh fuck you got it bad, don't you ?" he hiccuped after a moment, a hand on his ribs and the other drying his eyes. "Shiiiit, man, I can't believe you got a crush on Hansen. The Evan Hansen !"

 

Connor's blush deepened and he crossed his arms on his chest, leaning back in a defensive posture.

 

"I don't know what you're talking about," he mumbled.  
"Dude. Dude," Jared wheezed. "I can't believe... The lonely nerd and the bad boy. If I didn't knew better I could swear we're in a bad fanfiction or something."

 

Connor snorted and tried to rub the blush off his face.

 

"Stop breaking the fourth wall, you idiot."  
"Right. Anyway, don't think you can deviate the conversation," he smiled as his friend hid his face again from imbarassment. "What do you see in him ? He's a weirdo with an odd sense of fashion. I mean, a turtle neck ? Seriously ?"  
"You're one to talk, mister 'I think sandals and socks are a perfectly reasonable combination'," the taller boy groaned, but amusement was back in his voice.  
"Listen, if Germans can do it, I can. Back to the point, Muphy. I want to know everything."

 

Connor huffed and shifted, uncomfortable under the avid gaze of his friend.

 

"You know, last week, the bathroom conversation ? It was him. He talked to me and, I don't know. He was nice and actually decent," he added with a shrug. "He said he was sorry, multiples times. And he said he would be careful not to hit me anymore, which is. Something, I guess ?"  
"Maaaan," Jared beamed. "You really got it bad."  
"Who got it bad ?" someone asked from Connor's left.

 

They both turned simultaneously, their eyes landing on a wild pixie cut on top of a lanky, androgynous-looking kid.

 

"Hey Cass." Connor said casually.  
"Hey Connor," they said as they put their tray on the table and sat, before turning to quickly kiss Jared. "Hey you."  
"Hey babe," the latter grinned, his right hand instinctively setting on Cassidy's chairback, and Connor's heart squeezed at how natural and right it looked. "Connor right there has a mother fucking crush on our school creep."  
"Who, Evan Hansen ?" Cass' head bobbed up with interest. "Heh, he's cute. Good taste, man."  
"Nooooo, you're not supposed to encourage him," Jared softly whined, looking deeply betrayed. "That guy is a bully and a freak, I don't want him to corrupt our pure, innocent child !"

 

Connor snorted and looked at him in disbelief.

 

"I'm not pure or innocent or even your child. ...And how the fuck is he supposed to corrupt me ?"

 

Cass mumbled something with their mouth full, swallowing when both of the boys looked at them frowning.

 

"I said : as long as Connor is safe, why would we have to worry ?"

 

Jared opened his mouth to protest, got a piece of steak shoved in it instead, shutting him efficiently. Cass smiled smugly and turned once again to Connor.

 

"You like the guy, right ?"

 

He didn't answer, just dropping his head low enough to hide behind his hair. Cass seemed to take that as a yes because they continued :

 

"Look, I'm telling you by experience," they said as they thumbed at Jared, still trying to chew on the rubberish steak, "that the best way to work it out is to go for it. It may look hard, but you have nothing to lose."  
"They're right," Jared finally speaked up. "I'm fucking with you, buddy, but if you're saying that he's not as bad as everyone tell, I trust you."

 

Connor hummed, looking down at his tray and gathering bread crumps. He received a gentle kick under the table that made him look up. Cassidy had a worried look on their face.

 

"Go for it, Connor. Be friends. If it looks auspicious, take your chance. If not, at least you'll have one more friend."  
"Yeah, that would make like... Three friends now," Jared joked, before swearing out loud as he got kicked in turn. "I'm joking, I'm joking ! Four ! Outch ! Okay okay fine, I count Zoe too ! Five ! Five is a good number !"


	6. Bad Mental Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tough days are tough. But you can still go cloud-gazing.

Today wasn't a good day. Connor knew it as soon as he opened his eyes. It wasn't like a bad feeling, more like a certitude deep in his guts. The awareness that he would inevitably fuck up at some point. That, no matter what he did, he would do wrong. He contemplated the idea of staying in bed for today, only for Zoe to knock at his door and call for him. Connor wondered how long he could play dead before she got annoyed and left without him. Probably not long. But his sister pounded harder on the door, as if she could feel his dilemma through the wood panel, so he groaned a little and crawled out from under his blankets.

 

Clean and dressed up, he walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, ready for the habitual picture-perfect family only waiting for him to sit down to start their day. If Connor wasn't used to it, he would probably be freaked out by how still his mom was behind the counter, waiting for every piece of their ritual to fall back into place. He dropped himself silently on his chair, muttering a salutation to whoever would hear him, and lowered his head in his hands with a defeated huff. What was even the point ?

 

Zoe gently kicked him in the shin, but he couldn't tell if she was doing it willingly or not. When he got a second hit, however, he looked up from his bread to glare at her.

 

"What ?"  
"Jared called this morning," she told him, "his car broke and he wants a ride with us. We have to move."

 

As she was babbling and putting away her breakfast's dishes, Connor felt something dropping in his stomach, weighting on his chest. He knew he was just in a bad head space, and that with hindsight he would probably realize how stupid it was, but. At this moment, it was everything. It was everywhere. It was darkening every thought in his head and whispering atrocities in his ear.

 

Zoe made an inquisitive noise, tilting her head toward the door. He nodded and downed the rest of his breakfast, starting the countdown to the moment he could be back and hide in his bed while pretending he didn't exist. At this point, it was all he could wish for. 

 

__________________________________________________________________________________________

 

"So, are you l-like... going to eat there every monday or what th-the fuck is happening anymore ?"

 

Connor looked up from his lasagna and stared at Evan for three solid seconds, wondering what could be an appropriate answer to this kind of question. As he was clearly taking too long to find his words, Evan simply dropped his lunch trail in front of his and sat, getting rid of his backpack on the way.

 

"Do you mind ?" Connor finally gathered enough strength to get these words out of his throat.

 

The other boy glanced up from his plate of spaghetti above which he was hunched, trying to devour his lunch as fast as it was humanly possible, and eventually shrugged.

 

"Don't care," he grumbled, immediately looking away.

 

Connor had noticed that he did that whenever he was stressed. _When did he start noticing these details ?_ He didn't answer and got back to picking at his industrial lasagna. The next ten minutes passed in complete silence, except for the rest of the cafeteria that still was as noisy as usual. At least no one was sitting near their table - _their table ?_ \- so there is that.

 

"You don't s-speak much."

 

Connor shifted uncomfortably. No matter how hard he wrung his brain, there was just no suitable answer for this. Why did Evan have to make everything so complicated ? He was messing with Connor's manichean world. A white knight under a dark cape ? He wasn't buying it. There had to be another-

 

"Stop it."  
"Uh ?" Connor blinked.  
"S-stop it. You're thinking so hard I can almost hear you."  
"Oh yeah ? What was I thinking then ?" Connor snarked.

 

He was tired of this game, tired of pretending, _God, he's never been good at pretending._

 

"You're th-thinking," Evan said as he brought his chair closer, "That it's only a matter of time until you break. You flinch at every noise like it's a g-goddamn explosion. You're looking like y-you're in apnea."

 

He leaned back against his chair and took a sip from his glass of water. His eyes got lost somewhere on the table between their two trails. Connor didn't reply. Nothing to say, once again. Or were the words simply stuck ? He couldn't tell. He literally couldn't tell. How ironic was that ?

 

"You're so, so weird, Murphy," Evan continued, unphased. "Like, you're s-such a quiet guy, but your thoughts are so loud, all the fucking time. What's the d-deal ? What happens on the way between your brain and y-your mouth ?"

 

Connor winced and braced himself, waiting for a hypothetical impact that he knew would happen eventually. Something would come hit him in the face at some point. He knew he was weird. He was the school's Weird Kid after, as well as Evan was the Scary Kid. Didn't make him a monster though, didn't make him worthy of being pointed at in the hallways.

 

"You're weird too."

 

Evan snorted and shook his head, took his trail, got up and away from the table. Connor kind of wanted to cry : it was going well - _was it ?_ -, they were talking - _no, Evan was the one talking, he had to open his mouth and ruin everything, what an idiot_ -, they were having a pacific conversation - _more like Evan was talking to a wall_ -, he was...

 

"Are y-you coming or what ?"

 

Connor jumped a little when a hand nudged him gently. Evan was looking at him, an eyebrow arched, waiting for... Oh shit, that was a direct question, he had to answer !

 

"Where ?"

 

The other shrugged again and stared at him, seeming to say _does it really matter ?_ and no, no it didn't matter, because the boy Connor was crushing on was talking to him calmly and was trying to befriend him so no, not really, it didn't matter where they'd go as long as they'd go. He followed him out of the cafeteria.

 

They went upstairs, and upstairs, and upstairs, until there was no more stairs to climb but a closed door giving on the building's roof. Evan fished a key out of his coat and unlocked the access. Connor didn't ask ; It wasn't his business. He was too tired to care. The other boy took a few steps outside and looked over the edge, close enough to fall if someone pushed him - why was Connor even thinking that ?! No one was pushing no one over the edge of the roof, god, if his brain could just shut up-

 

"You're doing it again," Evan said.

 

Connor gulped and went through the door, pushing it slightly behind him so if anyone was passing by they couldn't tell it was open. Evan put his bag on the ground and sat next to it, propping his back against the access' wall. After a couple of seconds, he glared at him before rolling his eyes and pat the ground.

 

"Don't m-make me drag you over there, Murphy. I'll do it if I have to."

 

Connor took an extra second to make his mind and eventually sat down next to the smaller boy, who was looking at the sky. It was a good day to be outside : the sun was burning bright in the pale blue sky, and the wind only made the heat more bearable. It was hard to believe they weren't in summer anymore. At this thought, Connor shivered and no, he was glad it wasn't summer break anymore. Evan glanced at him again furtively before looking back up the the sky, watching as the cloud idly drifted above their heads.

 

They didn't talk for a while, taking in the open air and the warming sun like there was no tomorrow. Connor felt like he was breathing again : it didn't clean his head completely, but he was definitely in a better place than this morning. When the bell rang to mark the end of the lunch break, they blinked at each other in silence, as if they just got back into their bodies after a long journey. Connor lazily stretched as Evan stood up, yawning behind his hand. Which, obviously, make Connor yawn in turn. Then Evan yawned again, making the other boy snort a laugh half way through another yawn. A hint of a smile crossed Evan's face and walked back to the door, holding it open.

 

They walked back to their usual floor - obviously empty of any student with how late they were - and ready to part to their respective classes, but Evan grabbed his wrist to draw his attention.

 

"If you... You ever need to b-breathe. I let the d-door open."  
"Thanks," Connor replied, and it weirdly felt like it was the most honest thank he said in a while.

 

As he walked back in his class, excusing himself to the professor, he couldn't help but rub his hand, the skin tingling where Evan had pressed his fingers. Maybe the day wasn't lost, after all. Maybe his brain was just wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been dropping hints around.


	7. Discord Update !

****

Hello ! Quick update to share with you the Discord server I host and where there are a whole bunch of very nice people ! Come by whenever you feel like saying hello ! :)

Link [here](https://discord.gg/egaKgJZ) !


	8. Connor In The Basement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halloween is near.

There were good and bad days.

 

There were good days, where Connor and Evan would actually be decent human beings, talking like normal people and just having some general good time.

 

There were bad days, where Evan would punch anything close enough and Connor would actively avoid being in his immediate proximity.

 

There were silent days, where Connor could barely talk, where everything would just be too much to process already and Evan was here, silent, just making sure he wouldn't be alone.

 

There were radio silence days, where Evan was nowhere to be found and Connor would go to Jared, Zoe, Alana and Cassidy, and it would feel like in 9th grade all over again.

 

There were hunting days, where Connor would have to track Evan down to find wherever he could be hiding and stop him from breaking his fingers on the nearest wall.

 

And there were the panic days, where one of them would have a mental breakdown, generally between classes, in the hallways, lost in infinite crowds of faceless students. These days, they would take refuge on the roof, doing the breathing exercises Connor's mom taught him, or just cry their eyeballs out because these days were the worst of all, and it was suffocating, and they'd rather be anywhere else but in this anxious Hell, but they were stuck there and there was no way out and they felt so helpless. At least, Connor thought when it happened, it couldn't go worse.

 

And sometimes, there were these days that Connor couldn't label. He only knew that he liked those days the best, because Evan would sit a little closer, would talk a little gentler, would brush his hand against Connor's. These days, Connor would feel invincible.

 

It probably meant absolutely nothing, but Connor wanted it to mean something.

 

It probably meant nothing, but it made Connor's heart warm and soft.

 

It was probably nothing, but for Connor, it meant everything.

 

There were tears, most of the time. Shouts. Butchered skin where fists had met concrete. There was silence. But there was music, too. There were exchanged glances, laughs, knowing smirks. There were random text convos at three in the morning on a Tuesday night. There were papers left in each other's lockers. There were secret hours spent in the school's greenhouse, where no one would look for them. There were Monday's lunches. There were terrible days, but there were good days too. And Connor was greedy of these. He always wanted one more, just one more, so if he ever died in the night he would regret nothing.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

It was October before they knew it.

 

Connor's family didn't really celebrate Halloween anymore, but Cynthia always insisted that they put decorations in the front yard and the porch and buy insane amounts of sweets for the neighborhood's kids. And every year him and Zoe just rolled with it, because it made her happy and they weren't monsters. So here they were, having an argument about the skeleton's pose.

 

"We do the Thinker every year, Connie, come on," Zoe whined for what felt like the thousand's time. "We have to change sometimes !"  
"We don't, but go off I guess," he sighed and sniffed, feeling the windy air under his jacket. "What do you suggest ?"  
"What about a You Shall Not Pass pose ?"  
"We did it two years ago."  
"Hm. Jack Skellington ?"  
"Last year."  
"Dang. Sans the skeleton ?"  
"Seriously ?"  
"I'm trying, okay. Skeleton war ? Jared literally spammed me with memes the last two days."  
"Wh- Actually, you know what ? I think we still have the crusader's helmet somewhere in the basement."  
"Didn't we have the full costume ? Wait, no, don't answer, it's sized for seven years old, it won't fit anyway."

 

As she turned back to the plastic skeleton, Connor felt something warm spreading in his chest. He would never admit it to his sister, but sibling bonding time was the best. He could see why their mom liked this holiday so much.

 

"I'm going back inside. If I'm not back in ten minutes start my funeral without me."

 

Zoe snorted as he walked away. The wind followed him inside when he opened the door, sending his hair in his face. He really needed to tie them sometimes. Maybe Zoe could teach him how to braid. Maybe Cassidy would, they had long hair before the wild pixie cut. He toed off his shoes and shrugged off his jacket, making a mental note to grab his sweater on his way back out. He heard his mom humming along the radio in the kitchen and saw that the TV's was on in the living room as he passed by, his father probably listening to the news for the third time that day. He made his way to the staircase.

 

He never really liked the basement because it smelled like dust and broken dreams (Evan's words), but he didn't hate it either. It was kept clean and tidy, which was a relief whenever he was looking for something, but a real pain in the ass when he had to put away something. He pinpointed what he needed immediately : the cardboard box labelled _Costumes 2003_ was sitting right where he expected it to, between _Kitchenware_ and _Pictures 1999-2010_. Why they still had printed pictures in this century was above him.

 

He opened the costume box and pulled out a plastic helmet, a bit indented where he had once hit Zoe with a wooden sword while she was wearing it, but either than that in perfect state. He ogled the picture box, wondering if his sister would actually wait ten minutes before setting fire to a pyre before giving in and pulling it on his lap as he sat on the ground, the helmet laying by his side.

 

The photograph on the top of the pile was a shot of him and his mom from the first time they went to Disneyland. He was missing his front teeth and Cynthia looked twenty years younger, but they already looked pretty much like they did now. His hair was already long-ish at the time, and he didn't cut it since.

 

The second pic was one of toddler Zoe in diapers, looking excessively done with the world as she was sitting on Larry's lap with a tacky party hat on her head, while Connor was sitting at the other end of the picture, glancing at the birthday cake with interest. The funny part was that the light of the candles or the flash of the camera turned his eyes red, making him look like a small devil waiting to commit some mischief.

 

The third and fourth pictures were of his parents, sitting together at the base of a weird-looking tree. They looked so young and carefree... Squinting, Connor could make out the round belly of his mom, half hidden by the long coat she was wearing. According to the date, Zoe would have been born four months later.

 

The fifth shot showed young Connor, Cynthia and Zoe. Their mom was smiling at the camera, Connor asleep in her arms and drooling all over her shoulder, while Zoe was grinning and pointing at the photographer with undisguised glee. He had no idea where it had been taken, but the setting seemed familiar.

 

Footsteps resonated in the staircase, pulling him out of his daydream. Larry appeared soon after.

 

"I don't know why," he said, "but Zoe is threatening to set fire to the lawn if you don't come back and I'd rather she wouldn't do that."  
"Sh-" Connor shut his mouth before he could swear. "I'll be back in a moment," he added, looking down to his lap where the pictures were displayed.

 

Larry didn't move for a few seconds, after what he walked closer instead of going back to the living room. He took a long glance at the shots, before looking at Connor who promptly averted his eyes.

 

"You look so happy on this," his father said, making him flinch imperceptibly. "What happened ?"

 

Connor shrugged.

 

"Life got in the way."  
"It doesn't work like that, Connor," his father sighed, but he sounded more embarrassed than disappointed. "I see how you were, and I see how you are now. Something must have happened when I wasn't looking."  
"Yeah," Connor scoffed, "Adolescence."

 

Larry sighed. Connor tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. He hated this, he hated everything about this conversation and where it was going.

 

"You used to talk to me, before," Larry said again as he plopped on the ground next to his son. "I miss these times."  
"But you don't listen anymore."  
"What do you mean, "I don't listen anymore" ? I always listen to you."  
"No, you act like you do," he replied, something ugly twisting inside of his guts.  
"Now you're making that up."  
"Do I ? When was the last time that you said something nice to me ?" _He should shut up, he should really shut up._ "When was the last time you even said _hello_ to me ?"  
"I don't like your tone, young man," Larry warned, voice icy and sharp like steel.  
"Sorry," he replied without missing a beat.

 

There was a silence.

 

"I listen to you, son. I just- Don't always act like I should afterwards."

 

Connor wanted to scream. He wanted to press his face into a pillow and shout. He wanted to kidnap Jared and spend the day away.

 

"Prove it," he said instead.  
"Alright," his father cleared his throat. "Ask me anything."  
"Who is my best friend ?"  
"Isn't that that Kleinman kid that was here last week ?"  
"It was two months ago but alright. Last week it was Alana and she came to see Zoe."  
"Alana, it's that girl with short blond hair ?"  
"No, that's Cassidy, and they're not a girl."  
"Damn."  
"...Right."  
"Another one."  
"My last grade."  
"C+ in History, and we talked about your grades, Connor-"  
"It was an A in literature."

 

The ugly twist in his stomach got replaced by something more cold, as if sadness was seeping through every cell of his body.

 

"That's- That's my point right there. You don't listen."

 

Larry scowled but didn't contradict him. Connor gulped. Maybe that was it. Maybe that was the moment Larry decided that Connor wasn't good enough, maybe he would finally be pissed enough to kick him out of the house and Connor would have to crash on Jared's couch and he would deserve it, _God_ -

 

"I wish I did."

 

Another silence, during which Connor considered the life-changing choice laying before him. He inhaled sharply.

 

"I think I need to see a therapist."


	9. Panic! At The Murphy Household

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared is a true superhero. Evan is so done with Jared's sense of humor. Connor just wants to get better.

Downstairs, there was a screaming match between Zoe and Larry, while Cynthia -always the mediator- was trying to limit the damage. Meanwhile, Connor was lying on his bed, unable to move a single muscle. It felt like there was a metaphorical mass pinning him down to his mattress. He could barely breathe, barely move, barely think. Everything was blurry. 

 

Of course his dad would have had something to say about the therapist. Of course he would have fought the idea that his son wasn't okay like it was a personal offense. And of course Zoe would fly to rescue her brother, because it was just _her thing_. It was her job. Connor didn't know why he was even trying.

 

The voices in the living room and the ones in his head lowered at the same time. For a moment, it was quiet. He felt empty, drained from any strength, and cold, so so so cold. He shivered, but remained where he was.

 

Then there was a new vocal explosion, Zoe the loudest of all, doors slamming and Connor flinching. Stomping in the stairs. Zoe rushing past his door, sobbing in frustration, another door abused. End scene. Somewhere in-between, Connor dissociated. He watched from afar as his body started to move by itself, his arm extending, his hand lowering over his phone, unlocking it, pulling up the messages. He looked at himself typing, indifferent and yet terrified, panic rushing through every blood vessel, the same two words over and over again. The text was sent before he could do anything about it.

 

Then he was suddenly pulled back in his body, gasping, absentmindedly wondering when was the last time he had such a strong crisis. His breath still erratic, he looked down at the small screen. Read the text through his own eyes. Fuck.

 

Seven minutes and twenty-nine seconds later, his phone received a notification. He glanced at the window, then at his phone, then at the window again. Then he peeled himself off his bed, slowly, grabbed his shoes, slowly. He went downstairs, feeling like a ghost haunting his own house. The TV was on, as usual, with the sound muted. As he walked by the illuminated kitchen, he saw the tense back of his mom, shaken by controlled breaths. He tried to ignore it and turned to the front door, but Cynthia spin on her heels like she sensed he was there.

 

"Connor ?" she called, he voice carefully neutral, but her tense shoulders and red eyes were enough for anyone to understand that she'd been crying.  
"Hi Mom."  
"Where are you going ?"  
"Just outside. I'll be back in a bit, I promise."  
"Alone, at night ?" Cynthia frowned.  
"I'll be with Jared," Connor offered.

 

She pinched her lips, considering her son like she was seeing him for the first time. Connor knew he wasn't really presentable at the moment : between his shaky hands, his tousled hair, his defeated expression, everything about him was screaming "panic attack". And yet, Cynthia's eyes softened and she tried to put on a weak smile.

 

"Come back before eleven, alright ?"

 

Connor nodded and almost ran away. Pity wasn't something he wanted to face right now. On the rush to his way out, he forgot to take a coat.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

"What the fuck was that ?" Jared asked, sounding half-annoyed and half-concerned, as he waved his phone in Connor's direction.

 

The latter repressed a shiver as he crossed the lawn in direction of the car waiting for him on the other side of the street, avoiding direct eye contact with his best friend.

 

"It's World War 3 at home, I needed to get out of here," he muttered as he climbed in the front seat.  
"So that's why you spammed me with twenty-seven "save me" ? Dude, you really need to chill."  
"Not when I'm the subject of the fight."  
"Zoe is doing her Connor Protection Squad bullshit again ?" Jared frowned, turning on the motor.  
"She means well."

 

An incredulous snort came from the back of the car, making Connor jump and twist around. Evan was sitting here, arms crossed, looking weirdly out of place in the back of Jared's car.

 

"Hi," Connor greeted, his brain suddenly running short on word supplies.  
"Hey," Evan waved back.  
"Before you start imagining things," Jared warned, "He was eating dinner at my house. Our parents are close friends."

 

Connor almost glared at him. Almost. Jared glanced at him again.

 

"What, you're worried that the straight guy would steal your boyfriend ?"

 

As the two others turned bright red, Jared burst out laughing.

 

"Shut up, Kleinman," Evan barked and kicked the driver seat.  
"What the fuck, Jared," Connor hissed at the same time.  
"Jesus, both of you need to calm down, it was just a joke. And stop kicking my seat or I'll plant us into a pole !"

 

Connor turned toward the window, trying to forget the burn spreading on his cheeks.

 

"You're not even straight," he grumbled at Jared's intention, earning a chuckle from Evan.  
"I'm still not gay enough for your shit," Jared shot back.

 

No one replied, so they kept driving, making loops inside the neighborhood until Connor's breath was somewhat back to normal. Then, Jared pulled the car to a stop and pointed at an old gate.

 

"I don't know about you, but I'm in the mood for grave-robbing."

 

As Connor hummed in agreement, Evan tilted forward, his head between the front seats, and stared at them.

 

"What the... G-Grave-robbing ?"  
"Not literally," Connor supplied, already stepping out of the car.  
"Yeah, more like walking around in the cemetery to make fun of the names, or steal flowers from very well kept graves to put them on the lonely ones."  
"You guys are weird," Evan grumbled but followed them outside.

 

Jared disappeared after a few minutes, already far ahead. The night was getting fairly cold, and as another shiver ran down his spine Connor regretted forgetting his jacket. Something suddenly dropped on his shoulders, making him yelp.

 

"Calm down," Evan said, adjusting the six layers of clothes remaining on his own shoulders. "You looked c-cold."

 

Maybe it was just the way the light of the street lights illuminated his face, but Connor would have sworn the smaller guy was blushing.

 

"Thanks," he said, putting his arms through the thick sleeves of the winter coat.  
"Don't worry about it."

 

They walked down the alleys in a tense silence, like there was something unspoken of floating between them and that they were actively avoiding. Connor hid his nose in the coat, protecting the bottom half of his face from the spiky wind. He glanced at Evan, still walking by his side, who was chewing on his lip, his eyes fixed on his shoes. Connor wondered if he was the one making him nervous.

 

"What w-was that about ?" he eventually asked, making Connor jump and realize that he was staring.  
"What was what about ?"  
"The t-twenty-seven 'save-me'."  
"I panicked." Connor shrugged.  
"Wow, thanks, Captain Obvious," he mumbled and rolled his eyes.  
"You're welcome, Sergeant Sarcasm."

 

Evan cracked a smile a playfully poked at him, not knowing the things he did to Connor's stomach.

 

"I mean- I mean are you okay now ?"  
"As okay as I'll ever be," he shrugged again and changed the subject. "So. Your mom knows the Kleinmans ?"

 

Evan groaned loudly and bumped into him a little, avoiding the grave of Richard Hunter (1969-2003).

 

"Tell me a-about it. At some p-point they forced him to be my friend using his c-car insurance as a hostage."  
"You were friends ?" Connor repeated, raising an eyebrow.  
"Family friends," Evan corrected him. "He g-gave up in second grade."  
"That's sad."  
"Not really."  
"No, I mean, we could have been friends earlier."

 

Evan stopped abruptly on his tracks, his eyes widening.

 

"You think w-we're friends ?"  
"...Aren't we ? I thought-"  
"Nonono, I didn't mean-"  
"Sorry, that was stupid-"  
"I just- W-Why w-would you be friend with me ?" Evan eventually breathed out, sounding a little strangled.  
"Because I like you ?" Connor replied stupidly and _fuck, he should really just stop talking sometimes._

 

But Evan just stared at him before suddenly laughing, loud, and it was amazing and fucking terrifying. It kind of sounded like a broken record. But Connor's brain, obviously, immediately wondered if he was laughing at him.

 

"Fuck, we're a mess," Evan gasped, trying to breathe between the chuckles.

 

Connor giggled, legitimately giggled, and gently kicked him in the shin.

 

"Shut up, we're doing our best," he replied, trying and failing at sounding offended.  
"When you guys are done sucking each other's dicks you might want to see what I found !" Jared voice echoed from far away.  
"Oh my God, shut up Jared," Connor muttered, hiding his face behind his palms.  
"L-Let's go before he offers t-to join in," Evan joked, offering a hand to his friend.

 

Connor took it with minimal hesitation and didn't let go.


	10. Day Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor dissociates. Zoe decides to take some measures.

It was a terrible day. Connor couldn't even get out of bed this time. It was like all the world's misery was weighing on him, compressing his chest and leaving him exhausted, silently agonizing. He tried to get back to sleep. He thought about death, but in a very detached way. Then he wondered what hour and what day and what year it was and. It was a blur.

 

It took him a while to gather enough strength to sit up. Every movement felt impossible, his body actively fighting his brain, but eventually he found himself upward, his sight blackening for a second before coming back to normal, and the room stopped spinning. He wondered how long it would take him to go downstairs in this state.

 

He knew he wouldn't be able to even leave his room - it was just not possible right now for him to get up, cross the bedroom, open the door and get down the stairs. He couldn't. But he also didn't flop back on his pillow. He felt like stuck in-between, unable to leave the weird limbo his brain was swimming in.

 

His phone buzzed from the window sill, but he didn't pay any attention to it. Mugs clanged in the kitchen, but he didn't care. Water gurgled in the bathroom but. He. Didn't. Care.  
His phone buzzed again. The mugs hit the table. The water stopped running. Connor tried to breathe. A crow croaked from the tree in front of his window. The bathroom door opened, closed. In the kitchen, his mom said something to his dad. Connor felt a sob blocking the air in his throat.

 

Because no matter how bad he was, the world was still turning. He felt so small, all of sudden, so insignificant that he didn't know if he ever mattered at all. Nihilism was terrifying when combined to depression. But meaning something - maybe it was even worse. Maybe leaving an impact on Earth, by breathing, by doing something with his life, by simply existing, maybe it was too much responsibility.

 

His phone rang, making him almost jump. He glared at it, but it didn't stop the vibration from filling the room. When he realized just looking at the device wouldn't stop it, and that stopping that stupid noise was more important than whatever rollercoaster his brain was currently doing, he broke his way through the fog and grabbed it. But then, instead of turning it off, his hand automatically accepted the call and he found himself sitting there, in bed, with an open line towards the outside and no idea how words worked.

 

"Hey asshat," Jared's voice crackled in the speaker, sounding half-way between irritated and worried. "You could have told be you planned on ditching school today ! I walked all the way from home because none of you fuckers thought about telling me you weren't going."

 

Connor wheezed a little, a tiny bit of air making his way in his lungs, finally. Jared probably caught that sound through the mic, because he could hear him shift uncomfortably.

 

"Dude, you okay ? Are you having a crisis or something ?"  
"I'm. No. Not sure," he wheezed, cringing at how low and tired his voice sounded.  
"I can't hear you, are you even breathing ?"  
"Oxygen's overrated anyway."  
"...That's it, I'm calling your sister."

 

Jared hung up before Connor could even think of protest. Somewhere behind the walls, Zoe's phone started buzzing. He groaned and dropped his own back in its place.

 

"What do you mean he's up to something ?" was all he heard before Zoe cracked his door open, looking at him worriedly. "He seems fine to me."

 

Connor coughed. It made the whole apnea situation worse.

 

"Uh, nevermind, he's turning blue. Con, are you choking ?"  
"No."  
"Jar, I'm hanging up, my stupid brother forgot how to breathe," she grumbled, but as she turned off her own phone, he saw her hands shaking a little. "Come on, let's go."  
"What ?" he asked, before coughing again.  
"Get up. We're having a road trip."

 

He wanted to protest, but she was already out again, leaving his door obviously open as another attempt to make him leave his bed. So, very slowly, he dragged himself from under the comforter. Very, very slowly, he pulled off his pajamas and put on the very first thing he found. Very, very, very slowly, he made his way down. Every movement felt to be forced into him by an invisible, giant puppeteer that he couldn't fight off.

 

"Have a good day, kids !" Cynthia called from the kitchen as Zoe bolted out of there with a brown paper bag in her arms.  
"See you tonight mom !" she replied, pushing her barely human-looking brother toward the door.

 

They reached the car and climbed in, put on the belts and turned on the engine. Zoe led them down the usual road and for a moment Connor thought she tricked him and was taking them to school, but then the car passed by the parking and didn't stop, instead going straight down to the highway.

 

The younger Murphy didn't like silence very much. She'd rather be loud, sing, let the world she was there and alive, unlike her prostrate brother on the passenger seat, so after five more minutes she decided to put on some music, looking at him for some kind of reaction when Freddy Mercury's voice resonated from the speakers, but his eyes kept following the side-road, empty and unseeing. She turned up the volume a little. Started to hum along. Connor's eyes flicked back on her before going back to contemplate the suburban landscape.

 

"I'm a shooting star leaping through the skyyyyyy like a tiger, defying the laws of gravity, I'm a racing car passing by like Lady Godiva, I'm gonna go, go, _go_ !"

 

She heard a soft chuckle so she continued, singing louder and louder to the point where Freddy was no longer heard and for a moment it was only them, only a brother exhausted from life and his sister scared of losing him, only two kids who didn't know how to handle growing up, only a beaten up duo still holding on for the sake of old times, laughing and singing along Queen like they did what felt like a lifetime ago and ditching school because they didn't feel like sitting for eight hours straight in a badly lit classroom.

 

At some point Connor opened the window and just started shouting nonsense in the breeze of the late morning, and Zoe howled along because it felt just right. For the first time in ages it was _right_. Not okay, not perfect, not what she expected. But maybe just for that day, right would be enough.

 

They eventually stopped at a gas station to fill up and go to the bathroom. The car was silent again, but it wasn't as heavy. They still didn't talk, even when Zoe decided to pull off to a picnic area and grabbed the paper bag. They settled down and she pushed a brick of apple juice toward him along with a PB&J sandwich.

 

"It's 2005 all over again," Connor sighed almost contently.  
"Is that... a good thing ?" she mumbled around her own mouthful of sandwich.  
"I mean, kinda ? Those were good times."  
"I don't really remember anything."  
"It was simpler, I guess," he shrugged, "no one expects too much from five years-old kids."

 

She hummed in agreement and they finished their meal, climbing back in the car. It took Zoe maybe a couple of minutes before she broke the silence again.

 

"Do you remember when we used to play Smash ?"

 

Connor only raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement of her question, but stayed mute, forehead pressed against the glass.

 

"I have this vivid memory, I don't know if you remember, but the first time you invited Jared to play with us ? He obliterated me. And then he fell down the edge right after."  
"Hmm."  
"Apparently he's still good at it," she continued. "But Cass gives him a hard time. Apparently they're wicked at this game."  
"D'you think that's why he loves them ? He can smell the game master in them."  
"Hah. Probably."

 

Connor then took a deep breath, painful to hear, probably painful to take, but by the look on his face it was probably like inhaling freedom.

 

"Hey."  
"Yeah ?"  
"I'm gay."  
"No joke."  
"And I need to go to therapy."  
"We been knew."  
"And... I have a massive crush on Evan freaking Hansen."  
"...Yep."  
"And I think about dying. Sometimes."  
"Uh huh."  
"But not like, actively dying."  
"Makes sense."

 

A silence, before Connor took another deep breath.

 

"Okay."

 

Zoe looked at him sideways, then back at the road.

 

"Okay ?"  
"Yeah. Those are... facts. Reality. So, yeah, okay. I can work with that."  
"That's... good," she blinked, unsure of what just happened. "I guess."

 

He shrugged.

 

"I can work with that," he repeated to himself. "This is real. I can make something about it."  
"Uh. Alright. For the record, I'm also gay and in need of therapy."

 

Connor only snorted and punched her gently in the arm.

 

When they came back home that night, they got yelled at by very worried parents who got a call from the school, but there was less tension in Connor's shoulders, less tremor in Zoe's hands. They would never mention that day again, but just for that night it felt like they were sharing a very important secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took way too long to write. But hey, now I can go on with the story. :D

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, please leave kudos and comments ! If you want to see more, get a look to my other fics and OS ! I've been told it's good stuff.


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